


Open Your Eyes

by UncleInTheField



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Cravings, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Love Story?, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rating May Change, Rating mostly for the language, Slow Burn, bill's POV, find love together, i still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncleInTheField/pseuds/UncleInTheField
Summary: Bill brought Holden back after his incident with Kemper. And as time went by Bill started to realize something had changed and he needed open his eyes and see what it truly was.
Relationships: Holden Ford & Bill Tench, Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Open Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> # I actually started watching the show when it first launched on Netflix. But for some weird reason I never finished even the first episode…yes, I know, I was an idiot back then. And after a few years as I’m driven crazy by this covid madness, I finally got back to the show again…and boom! I started shipping Bill x Holden almost instantly. And may I just take a brief second to express my admiration to Holt McCallany (our beloved Bill)? HE IS SEXY!!!!!!!!  
> # The story starts after the ending of the first season, and also covers the first half of the first episode of season two. Throughout the story I also cherry picked some spots from the second season as well.  
> # I really hope I'm not too late to be in the fandom…  
> # Anyways, enjoy!

When Bill arrived at the hospital, Holden had just taken his pills and fallen asleep. The nurse was not supposed to let him in for it was not time for visits, nor was Bill his direct relative. But Bill got in anyways. He might or might not have made use of his FBI badge to gain access.

Bill sat beside Holden’s sickbed while he was in slumber. He was not really watching Holden sleep. Most of the time Bill was waiting in a sulk, stuck in his mind while staring to the void in Holden’s direction.

Bill did not regret what he told OPR. As he said to Holden, he just told them the truth. And as Shepherd suggested, they should go forward with absolute transparency. He just did the right thing. And Bill always does the right thing. But did he reckon that what he said in that room would jeopardize Holden’s position in the BSU, or even his career in the FBI? Yes, of course he did. But Bill would still do the same. Actually, he thought it might well be a positive outcome if this affected Holden. This could have served as a wakeup call for him. Bill was deeply concerned about this brat for what he did in the interviews. And he thought maybe this would trigger him to think twice the next time when he wanted to improvise with those maniacs. Also Bill was certain that this would not have any substantial impact to Holden’s position in the team. He would make sure that it would not happen.

However, had Bill known that this might happen after the OPR investigation, would he still do what he did? Honestly, Bill did not know. Although what happened in that room with Holden and Kemper had nothing to do with him, Bill still felt there was some connections. He briefly surfaced from his thoughts and looked at Holden. He was still asleep. As Bill saw Holden’s face, almost instantly he felt a wave of rage surging in his chest. A few hours ago while waiting to board the plane, Bill made a few calls and got debriefed about Holden’s visit to Kemper’s ICU room before he had the panic attack, Bill did not know what happened exactly because no one did. He just felt the same kind of anger then as he was at this moment. Bill was infuriated.

What the fuck was he thinking, staying in the same room with Kemper with no supervision? And why the fuck did he go all the way to Sacramento to see him in the first place? God give me strength, please, he did not think he was really friends with that monster! And what the fuck did Kemper do to him to lead to this?

Bill had a lot of questions, none of which he wanted answers to. He was just very pissed at Holden. He had a clear plan to punch him in the face the moment he saw him. Bill could be glum and short-tempered, but rarely did he get physical with anyone. However this time, Bill would make an exception for Holden.

But seeing Holden lying in bed, limp, Bill lost the appetite to enjoy his fest of anger. He was still pissed, of course. Pissed at Holden, for what he did, for meeting Kemper alone, for making disturbing improvisations to elicit the frenzied talking about their dark past, and for acting like a cocky teenager who thought himself being omnipotent. And as he stewed on his anger, Bill started to get mad at himself too.

It all started with doubt.

Maybe, just maybe, Bill could have prevented this from happening? Should he have done something the first time he found Holden being disconcerting? Should he have given Holden a hard NO the first time he suggested to interview Kemper? Should he have removed Holden from BSU before it had got this far? Bill did not have any answer to those questions. He knew the study they were undertaking was profound and could leave a great impact, and without Holden the team would never have achieved so much. But are those things worth this? Bill was not sure. He just thought there got to be something he could have done to fix all this! Just like how he stood up for Holden the first time against Shepherd, this is what Bill does, stand up for what he believes in and protect. In the end, Bill locked himself in a dead circle, fuming in a slow-burn anger.

Bill looked at Holden again, and saw that he was frowning in his sleep. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, all Bill wanted was for Holden to open his eyes. It was quite absurd to have such an urge since Holden was not in a coma, only asleep due to some minor side effect from the medicine he took. But at this very moment, that was all Bill wanted. He wanted him to open his eyes.

Bill mesmerized that pair of green eyes the first time they met in the cafeteria. It’s not common to see such a pair of eyes, so curious, so innocent, so meek, on an FBI agent. And Holden looked like a college kid too, keen and fresh. Bill liked him instantly, which was why he offered Holden to help out with Road School right away without any interviews, which he normally did before with other candidates.

But later on, the reality proved Bill wrong completely. How stupid was he to like someone based on their first impression, and Bill is an FBI agent, who founded BSU! He should have known better. Holden was not likable at all. Bill did not expect Holden to ingratiate, but he did not expect him to outright piss him either. And that was all Holden did. He found the worst scenario to say the worst things, irritated him for no good reason, always poked him and rubbed him the wrong way. Bill sometimes thought it was a huge waste for Holden to have such a pretty face.

With memories of him and Holden flooding in the head, Bill closed his eyes, stretched his neck, and huffed a frustrated sigh. Holden, you are truly going to be the end of me, thought Bill.

“Bill…”

Hearing Holden’s hoarse voice, Bill sat up and looked at him. Holden looked startled, jumpy, chest heaving, and covered in a sheer of sweat. He looked like he just woke up from a nightmare.

As their eyes met, Bill could see tears glittering in Holden’s eyes with regret, shame and fear. Bill did not say anything, just sighed again, this time out of exhaustion. Then he heard Holden speak again.

“Bill, I’m…”

“Shut it.”

Bill cut Holden off before he had a chance to finish. He was trying to apologize. Bill knew but did not want to hear it. Before Holden opened his mouth again, Bill got up and left the room to find the doctor.

Bill came back with the doctor and sat back in his chair while the doctor explained Holden’s condition, and eventually told Bill that Holden was free to be discharged, but he had to be careful with stress and keep taking the pills prescribed for him. Holden was silent the whole time, and only nodded at the end to the doctor, murmuring a silent “thank you” with a bitter but grateful smile. 

Bill followed the doctor out of the room to pick up the prescription. When he came back, Holden was resting in the bed with his eyes shut. He heard Bill return, and opened his eyes as Bill walked back to him. He looked at Bill and watched him put the duffle bag Bill brought on his lap. Without saying anything to console him, Bill told him to change, and he made it sound like an order on purpose.  
  
On the plane back to Quantico, Bill was sitting across the aisle from Holden. He told Holden about Shepherd’s retiring and their new boss, Ted Gunn. In the end he made it clear that from now on Holden needed to run in Bill’s harness if he still wanted his ass as part of BSU.

“From now on, if I tell you to shut your mouth, you shut your mouth.” Bill said in an indifferent voice. Hearing nothing from Holden, Bill turned to look at him. The young agent had his eyes shut, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down, trapped in the cage of his own mind. But Bill could see that he was trying to escape and wanted to reply to him.

Bill did not wait, but turned back to look straight ahead and said, “just nod if you understand.” He glanced and caught Holden slightly nodding his head.

* * *

After Bill brought back Holden, life quickly went back to normal. Or at least, everything seemed to be back to normal. The new boss was surprisingly supportive, completely the opposite to how Shepherd was. He even managed to deal with the OPR and shooed them away. 

Bill and Holden kept their scheduled visits to the felons, helping out the local police for some bizarre cases occasionally, and then came back to the basement to retrospect the interviews. Basically they just kept doing what they used to do before Holden’s incident. No one ever brought it up. No one would. No one else knew, other than Bill. And Bill and Holden had agreed not to tell anyone in case Holden’s instability would brought any attention from departments like OPR again.

However, it was probably good for Holden to open up and talk about it, actually. It could trigger another episode of his panic attack him recalling what he had went through, but it might also help Holden overcome the fear and get over with it faster. Sadly, Bill was sure that Holden would not talk to him. Not after he had been trying to stay neutral with the young agent. Not that they were so close in the first place, but Bill had found himself unconsciously stepping away from Holden. He did not know why exactly, except this feeling of denial in his guts whenever Holden was around. And Bill did not have the time to figure that out just yet. And since Holden had always managed to irritate him since the beginning, this could just be how he had always felt.

Nevertheless, whom would Holden talk to then? Bill thought of Debbie. He thought maybe it’s a good idea to pay her a visit asking her to pay some extra attention to Holden. In a whim, Bill went to Debbie’s college. As he was sitting at the reception waiting for Debbie to come out, amongst some stoned hipsters, Bill thought himself being an idiot. He felt clumsy and slow reaching out to Holden’s girlfriend. What did he think he was, trying to give her a tip to help her own boyfriend get through a tough time? It was none of his business. And Holden might have told her already. So why was Bill there?

The answer was that Bill was there only to hear Debbie telling him that they had broken up. The time when it happened was in the middle of OPR’s investigation. After revealing the news, Debbie asked Bill what his visit was for. Of course Bill did not tell her anything about Holden’s incident.

Not long afterwards, when Bill dropped Holden off after another interview, Bill made up his mind. As Holden was getting off the car and saying “good night”, Bill reached out and held his elbow. Holden looked back at him with questioning eyes.

Bill looked at him, cleared his throat, and said, “Holden, about what happened with Kemper that night…if you ever need to talk to someone, at any time, my door is always open.”

Holden did not say anything, but kept staring back at Bill, eyes wide. After about 3 seconds, Bill found it too awkward and let go of Holden.

“Just nod if you understand.” said Bill. He lit up a cigaret and looked back at Holden. 

Holden stared at him for a few seconds longer, and eventually nodded.

* * *

Bill was waiting for Holden to come and knock on his door until Nancy asked him for a divorce. When Nancy brought it up that night after she tugged Brian in, Bill was in his office, examining some case files from another officer hoping to get a helping hand from the BSU. Bill was not surprised at Nancy’s decision. He knew that there had been problems since the beginning. As a responsible husband and a rational adult, Bill knew that he had to take half the blame for their failed marriage. Although he had tried to make it work, in the end it just became too much and he hid in the golf courts as his regimen. Would it be different if he had been more open, talked more, and shared more with Nancy? Yes, probably. But it was too late for that now. And Bill was never the kind to share his hardship. He was brought up as a man to endure, to bare the burden, to provide, not to share or beg for his wife’s sympathy. It just would not work. 

After spending a week on the couch in the living room, Bill moved out to an apartment with Nancy’s help. If there was any up side about Bill’s divorce, it was that they became even closer as good friends. They never held any malice against each other. So maybe this is the best for both of them.

Bill moved into the same building as Wendy. As a matter of fact, she helped him out after he told her what happened. Bill did not bring up his divorce to anyone. Instead, Wendy noticed herself with her scientific skills and asked him if he was okay out of curtesy one day after work. Bill did not want to tell anyone about his personal life. But maybe because the ventilation in the office did not work that day, which made Bill feel too oppressed to hold back, he finally let it out and told Wendy. He tried his best to keep his voice indifferent and steady, and thought he was successful because Wendy did not look at him with too much pity in her eyes, just some mild sadness.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Bill.” said Wendy with her arms crossed. She pursed her lips as if she was contemplating some world-class crisis. But in the end she did not say anything else.

As Wendy walked away from his desk, Bill shrugged, put his glasses on, and went back to the files. Then he heard Wendy saying, “Bill, if you need a place to stay, I should be able to help.”

Bill never thought of telling Holden. He had no reason to. But eventually Holden suspected something was wrong with Bill and came to the conclusion himself, probably using his profiling skills gleaned from their interviews. Bill should have warned him never to use that on him, but it was too late. Maybe he noticed that Bill was always staying late at work, or that he was wearing the same shirt too many days in a row because he forgot to do his laundries.

Anyways, one day after work when it was only Bill and Holden in the office, Holden knocked on Bill’s door.

“Is everything okay at home with Nancy?” asked Holden.

Bill looked up at him and saw him leaning against the door frame with a tentative look in his eyes. Bill knew right away that there was no point lying to him. Holden had already guessed it. Bill sighed, took off his glasses, and pinched his nose bridge.

“Yes and no. We are going through divorce.” Bill threw his glasses and the files on the desk and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at Holden, and found him looking down on the ground, fidgeting uncomfortably. Bill rubbed the back of his neck and lit up a cigaret. 

“But it’s almost done. So it’s okay,” he said eventually.

Holden nodded awkwardly. He still did not say anything, nor did he leave, just stood there.

Now Bill was impatient. He sat up and asked, “do you need anything, Holden?”

Finally Holden looked up, and met his eyes. Bill did not know what to do with him. Shoulders drooping, Bill could not hold back another sigh.

“Um…I was just thinking, if you need anything…”

Bill looked up again, and saw Holden smile at him timidly. Before he knew it, he was smiling back at him. Bill knew he probably looked really tired and sad, but since the divorce, Bill had never felt so peaceful and relieved as he he felt at this moment.

“Thank you, Holden.” said Bill.

Since both Wendy and Holden knew about his divorce and moving out. Bill felt maybe he should invite them over for a visit. So he did. He invited them over on a Friday after work. Holden came with a pack of beer, and then Wendy with a bottle of wine and her own glass. Bill ordered two greasy pizzas for them.

It was not really a party. They basically sat there in silence with some jazz playing in the background, sipping their drinks, and nibbling at their slices of pizza. Occasionally Holden would bring up some anecdotes from college, trying to lighten up. Unfortunately, not like in the interrogations, he did not succeed. But it was okay. It was okay for Bill. He enjoyed himself. He felt at ease and relaxed. Somehow seeing Holden and Wendy outside of work, no longer tense or high strung, just being themselves, helped Bill feel the same way.

It was a brief moment of tranquility and happiness for Bill. Then afterwards, everything went back to the old way. Wendy became the rigid Dr. Carr, while Holden the arrogant, whimsical brat.

However, something was different. Something between Bill and Holden had changed. Bill found himself paying much more attention to Holden, especially in the interviews and interrogations. Bill was always watching him by his side, and always pulled him behind at tough situations. As much as Bill wanted to tell himself and others that Holden irritated him to no end, he still cared for and worried about him. Before Holden’s incident, Bill saw him more like an oblivious young man that needed a second pair of eyes from a senior to look out for him. After Bill saw him in the hospital, he was genuinely concerned about him. He was afraid that Holden would have another episode, not because he was afraid that Holden’s panic attack would billow the already ripply waters of the BSU, but for he did not want to see him lying on the sickbed, lifeless like a spent toy in the dumpster.

For Bill, all he saw about his caring for Holden was more like a paternal gesture, although he did not see himself as Holden’s father, and that thought actually made him uncomfortable. Nevertheless, Bill thought him taking the exertion to look after Holden being nothing more than what a good friend would do. He deliberately avoided interpreting what it meant behind his eyes lingering on Holden just a few seconds too long, or finding the reason why it would be harder and harder to get mad at the young man. In the meanwhile, Bill would also neglect the fact that he sometimes would find Holden gazing at him secretly. Bill was never good at deciphering human behaviors unless it’s a work subject. And he did not want to put Holden in the same category with the lunatics they interview. So he chose to ignore, until one day he could not ignore any more.

* * *

It was 3 months after Holden’s incident. Bill was at home, reviewing their notes from the last interview. Bill lost track of time until he felt his neck got too stiff and looked up slowly to check the clock, it was already 1 am. As he put out the first cigarette of the day and stood up to go to bed, the door bell rang.

Bill walked to the door and looked through the peephole. It was Holden, soaking wet. Bill frowned and looked out the window. It was not raining. What the hell? Bill cursed to himself and opened the door.

“What’s going on, Holden?” asked Bill as he stepped aside to let Holden in.

Holden did not move but craned his head to see if there was anyone else with Bill.

“It’s just me. Come in.” Bill reassured him.

“Can I?” Holden asked.

Bill crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as he said, “I didn’t think you’d come all this way in the middle of the night so you can talk with me here?”

Holden nodded and tiptoed his way in.

“Did you go for a swim with your shirt on, Holden?” Bill asked after he told Holden to sit down on the couch. He went to the kitchen to grab a beer for Holden from the fridge. But just before he shut the fridge door close, he glanced towards Holden and saw that he was shivering. Bill put the beer back and started boiling some water to make tea.

Bill came back and sat beside Holden. The young agent was shaking his legs, and crossed his arms as if he was hugging himself. They were signs of anxiety and self-preservation. Bill could also see the hysteria in his eyes. Did he go through another episode? Bill thought and immediately became alerted and more worried.  
  
“Is everything okay, Holden?” asked Bill quietly, trying to make his voice sound soft and calming.

“I ran out of the pills.” said Holden. He was staring straight ahead, but not really looking at anything, just staring to the void.

“What?” asked Bill, frowning. He leaned closer to Holden.

Holden took a sharp inhale and started. His voice was shaking, ragged and hasty. As if he was timed and trying to rush all of it out before it was too late.

“I brought back the mails from the office, and there is a letter from Kemper…I was alone at home…I could see him in the same room with me again…stepping forward and trying to hug me…I felt suffocated. When the vision disappeared, I went for the pills. The bottle was empty. So I ran into the shower to cool down…then…then I was in front of your door…I don’t know how I got here.”

Finally Holden finished and turned to look at Bill, tears streaming down his cheeks. Bill felt a stab in his chest. He could picture the scene, Kemper overshadowing Holden, alone, in the obscure ICU room with the evil and twisted thoughts about Holden in his head.

“Wait a second. He hugged you?” Bill couldn’t help but ask, and instantly knew that he should not have. This was not the time for confirmation. It would not even matter right now. What mattered was that Holden was here with him at this very moment, seeking for consolation.

“It’s okay, Holden. You don’t have to answer me.” Bill said and hoped that it was not too late. He watched Holden closed his eyes without saying anything, and felt only slightly relieved. Then Bill was helpless and bewildered. He did not know what to do. 

Suddenly Bill remembered his conversation with Wendy. It was right before their first interview after he brought Holden back. Bill was worried that Holden might have another episode in front of the first pervert he saw after his panic attack. He did not know what to do. Knowing that Wendy was the one who knows the most about psychology and mental illness of all of them, Bill turned to her for help.

“Be observant. Watch for all physical cues, shortness of breaths, sweating, vertigo…” Bill tried to remember all the advice Wendy offered, “…Take him out of the situation that triggered the episode…Stay with him and stay calm…Don’t make assumptions about what he needs. Just ask. In a simple and short manner…And be predictable. During an episode he will be anxious and vulnerable, so tell him clearly about your moves before he gets manic.”

Recollecting all the tips he could remember, Bill took a deep breath and said to Holden, “are you able to change?”

Holden nodded slightly with his eyes shut.

“Alright, I’m going to bring you a towel and some dry clothes. You go to the bedroom and change, while I go to the kitchen and make you some tea, okay?” Bill told Holden in a slow and calming voice, meaning to give him instructions without being demanding.

Seeing Holden nod again, Bill stood up. Before he could make one step away, Holden grasped his wrist. Bill almost shivered as he felt Holden’s icy cold fingers on his skin. He looked down and saw Holden’s chest heaving. 

Bill said again, “come with me, Holden.”

Holden finally opened his eyes and looked up at Bill. He looked into Bill’s eyes intensely, as if he was searching for something in there. Bill did not know what he was looking for, possibly pity, contempt or disgust. And Bill had none of those. So he just stared back at him, waiting patiently for him to come back from whatever he was stuck in and come with him.

After what seemed to be an eternity but was actually just 5 seconds, Holden looked away and stood up. He let go of Bill’s wrist, and was surprised to find Bill reach out and grab his hand.

Leading Holden into his bedroom, Bill guided Holden to sit down on the bed and stepped to his wardrobe to find something for him to wear. Then he quickly ran to the kitchen to turn off the stove and went to the bathroom to grab a towel for him.

“Do you want me here?” Bill asked softly as he put the towel on Holden’s lap.

Holden did not answer, or could not answer. And that was his answer. Trying not to be too awkward, Bill sighed and took the cigaret out from his pocket and gestured at the balcony, which is connected to the bedroom with a sliding glass door.

Seeing what seemed to be a nod from Holden, Bill walked past the bed and slid the door open to let the smoke out. He did not walk out, just stood and leaned on the doorframe, remaining in the same room with Holden.

Looking outside to the inky night sky, Bill heard some quiet rustling behind him, and tried his best to steer his mind away from imagining a naked Holden. Suddenly he heard Holden clearing his throat, Bill pressed the stub in the ashtray and turned back.

Holden looked even younger in Bill’s polo and shorts, and more innocent as he was fidgeting with the hem of the shirt. Bill pursed his lips and nodded awkwardly. He pointed to the kitchen and suggested Holden to follow him there so he could make tea for him.

“Thank you but I don’t want tea.” said Holden meticulously, looking down like a child admitting his mischief.

Bill nodded and asked, “okay, what do you want?”

Holden swallowed and asked tentatively, “can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” said Bill matter-of-factly.

Then Holden tried again, “Can you stay here, with me? For now?” Seeing Bill raise his brows, Holden added.

Bill’s mind was blank for a second, then he came back to terms and nodded slowly. He looked down on the bed and looked back at Holden. Bill shrugged and gestured toward the bed, “pick your side.”

In the end, Holden chose the side closer the door and curled up under the sheet, facing away from Bill. Bill scratched the back of his head, and then lied down beside Holden. He leaned against the headboard, and stared at the painting Nancy got him as a gift, crossing his arms on his chest. Bill glanced down at Holden and noticed that he was still shivering.

Bill contemplated for a second, cleared his throat, and asked, “Do you want me to hold you?”

Seeing Holden’s shoulders tense, Bill realized that he misunderstood him.

“I’m asking you seriously, not trying to ridicule. Just think about what you need, Holden.” Bill justified himself.

Holden went silent. Just as Bill was going to give up and tell Holden to never mind, Holden murmured under the sheet, “if that’s okay.”

Bill looked at him and blinked. Then he realized that Holden wanted him to hold him. Bill uncrossed his arms, and shifted away from the headboard. He lied down and inched closer to Holden. Just as the front of his shirt brushed Holden’s back, Bill reached out his arm and wrapped around him over his elbow. He rested his hand in the middle of Holden’s chest, and curled his fingers slightly so he was not pressing on his skin. Bill stayed there, not moving closer nor pushing away, just gently held Holden with one arm.

“Let me know if it becomes uncomfortable.” said Bill softly.

Holden nodded and let out a sigh. Before Bill started to move again, Holden pressed his back against his chest. Following Holden’s movement, Bill involuntarily stretched out the other arm under Holden’s neck and laced his fingers over Holden’s left chest. Bill could feel Holden’s heartbeat under his palm even though he was not really touching him. The throbbing of Holden’s heart was slow and steady, and Bill was reassured to feel that. He only hoped that he could do the same.

Bill breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart rate. But he could still feel his heart pumping heavily as if it was trying to escape his ribcage. And Bill was sure Holden could feel it too. 

Well, this is just awkward. Bill thought to himself and exhaled in defeat.

Then he felt Holden’s hand over his. His fingers were no longer cold but warm. And knowing that he had helped Holden to recover helped Bill to relax. Eventually he was able to loosen up and rest easily against Holden.

As Bill finally drifted off and almost felt asleep, Holden stirred and turned over, facing Bill. To make things worse, he reached out one of his arms and held Bill’s waist, while the other one resting dangerously close to Bill’s crotch. Feeling Holden’s warm breaths caressing his neck, Bill gritted his teeth and sighed.

Well, it’s going to be a long night.

Six hours later, Bill slowly and carefully moved out of Holden’s embrace. He did not sleep at all. How could he? Bill was too busy pondering to sleep, and so many scattered thoughts floated though that Bill did not grasp any by the time the first beam of morning light reflected from the wall back into his eyes. Also, Bill wanted to make sure he could get up first before Holden, so Holden did not have to deal with the embarrassment of waking up in the arms of another man.

Bill was gulping his third cup of coffee when Holden walked out of the bedroom with a headful of messed-up hair and a pair of swollen eyes. He looked lost.

Bill held back a smirk and remarked, “Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Holden turned to look at him, and slowly sobered up. Bill could see the memories from last night swiftly rushing back to Holden, as the younger agent blinked, looked down at himself, and then glared at Bill. Holden opened his mouth, probably trying to come up with some plausible explanations, or lies, or maybe just scramble something not so awkward to express his gratitude.

Seeing Holden all flustered was entertaining enough. But Bill decided to show some mercy, and said, ”wash yourself up in 10 minutes, then we still have time to get to your place. You need to change.” Bill put down his cup in the sink, and pointed to the coffee machine, “help yourself.” 

Before Holden could answer, Bill walked out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. He sat down on the couch and picked up a file he was going to take to the office. He looked back and saw Holden still staring at him.

“We are going to be late, Holden.” Bill warned him.

Holden blinked and nodded. He turned to rush to the bathroom, but suddenly stopped and turned back again.

“Thank you, Bill.” said Holden.

Bill smiled and said, “you’re welcome. As I said, I’m here if you need, any time.”

* * *

After what happened that night, it took a week for them to wear off the awkwardness. Both Bill and Holden acted normal in the office, but it was not hard to see that something was going between them. For instance, both of them would avoid being in each other’s presence unless it’s necessary; also they would be silent when the other one was speaking, which was the opposite to how they were before when they would finish each other’s sentences naturally. Wendy must have sensed something as she frowned even more at Bill and Holden. Gregg on the other hand, was oblivious and never noticed anything.

Fortunately before Wendy was concerned enough to question, they went on a trip for another interview, which brought back their old routine and magically fixed the situation. At least that was how Bill felt.

But that night of them sleeping, more precisely Holden sleeping, on the same bed holding each other had definitely escalated something. For one, Holden was staring at Bill even more now and more openly. That is, it would take him longer to tear his gaze away from Bill when Bill sensed him and looked at him with raised eyebrows. And for Bill himself, he was more light-hearted now and rarely got mad at Holden. He still scoffed at some snarly comment Holden made being a smartass as he is, but Bill knew he was not even slightly pissed at him. And if Bill was being completely honest with himself, he would even say that he, more often than he’d prefer, saw Holden being endearing. And that unknown denial he used to feel in his guts, had somehow turned into an unspeakable warmth he felt in his chest.

Moreover, they were spending more time together. Besides their normal time together on the road trips and interviews, Holden started to pay Bill more visits, not the urgent ones like that night, but just casual visits, sometimes work related when they just sat side by side reviewing files, whereas at other times he just randomly showed up with a pack of beer in one hand and a box of greasy, cheap pizza in the other, and all they did were just watching TV, slacking on each end of the couch. One time, Brian was at Bill’s when Holden visited, and Bill watched the two play the toy train set for 2 hours.

Just as Bill got comfortable with this new relationship with Holden, he could not help but feel a hollow develop inside of him. He noticed that whenever Holden was present, and it was harder and harder to ignore it as time went by. Especially after they spent a couple of nights on the same bed again in some motel rooms after Holden had nightmares about Kemper, and then the next day pretended nothing happened again. 

One night after seeing Holden off outside his apartment, Bill came back and felt the hollow again. He tried for the first time to figure out what the hell it was. As Holden’s eyes flashing in his mind, Bill gave up before he got sucked in by the craving and longing he had never felt. He was desperate, and promised himself never to go there again, until one day he had to.

* * *

That day came when Nancy gave him a pot of casserole and told him to give Wendy as another thank-you gift for her helping Bill find his apartment. Bill had told her not to do it but she would not listen. In the end, Bill found himself standing outside of Wendy’s door, holding the casserole in his hands.

It was already late at night. Bill was caught up in his notes in the office, and when he got back and saw the casserole in his fridge, it was over 9 pm. He thought of giving it to Wendy tomorrow but eventually decided to do it now and get it over with. 

Bill sighed again before he knocked on the door.

No one answered. But Wendy should be at home. Bill saw her lighted window from the outside after he parked his car. He knocked again, and decided if no one answered he would call her to make sure that she was safe and then tell her that he would drop the casserole the next day.

But suddenly Wendy’s voice came through the door, “who is it?”

“Bill.”

“Um…Bill…I’m busy right now. Can we talk in the office tomorrow?” Wendy’s voice sounded hasty.

Bill frowned and said, “of course. Wendy, is everything okay?”

“Yes…Yes…”

“Babe, where are your glasses? I want more wine! Come back!”

It was a woman’s voice. Bill stared at the door for a second and all of a sudden realized something. He was turning to leave when the door swung open. A frustrated Wendy stood there, embarrassed.

Bill cleared his voice and held the casserole out to Wendy, “Nancy wanted me to give you this,” seeing Wendy took the pot, he said again, “we can talk tomorrow.”

The next day, after not speaking to Bill the whole day, Wendy asked him if they could have a drink. Bill glanced at Holden’s empty desk, who was currently thousands of miles away with Gregg for an interview. Bill took off his glasses and said yes.

They sat in a booth at a bar, across the table from each other. While waiting for their drinks, neither of them talked. But eventually Wendy started.

“Bill, about last night…”

Bill held up his hand and said calmly, “Wendy, you don’t need to explain to me. What you do outside of work is none of my business, as long as it does not affect the BSU.”

Wendy swallowed and nodded, “of course.”

Bill looked at her, nodded and said again, as sincerely as he could, “and you can trust me that I will not see you differently because of your life style. As I said, it’s none of my business. And as your friend, I hope you’d allow me to call myself that, I respect you and your choice.”

Wendy stared at him, and after a few seconds took a sip of wine and said, “thank you, Bill.”

Then they drank silently for a while before Wendy finally asked Bill, “why didn’t you go to this interview with Holden, Bill?”

Bill looked at her and knew why she would ask. He shrugged, hoping that would brush off her speculation.

“Is it because the subject of this interview is homosexual?” asked Wendy.

Bill chose not to answer. He finished his glass of bourbon and was about to say good night to Wendy and then leave, but Wendy spoke again, “Bill, I appreciate it that you respect my personal life. I really do. But if your opinion towards certain types of sexual orientation would affect your involvement in the study, we need to talk.”

Bill let out a sigh and slumped back into the booth. He did not want to say anything, partially because it was too personal and Bill was not the sharing type, and the other part was that he did not even know what to say himself, except that he felt that he had this abnormal feeling about his relationship with Holden, which had the potential to topple all his beliefs and might as a result shatter him, and this interview might reveal something too close to his own theory that he could not risk to admit. Bill was not ready to confess.

But eventually Bill admitted to himself that he should really figure this stuff out before it did more damage and Wendy might be the best one to talk to. 

After some serious thinking, Bill asked, “Wendy, since you asked, what is your take on homosexuality?”

Wendy thought for a moment, and tried, “my opinion about any sexuality is the same, they are just different types, like the colors in the spectrum, although they might differ by their quantity and definition, all are the same and equal. And it is such a complex topic for different branches of science, I don’t think a couple of sentences would be remotely enough to summarize even the basic concept of it. And I also think that the method and terminology of classification we’ve been using to this day might one day be scratched and rewritten. Change is only the constant,” after a pause, Wendy shrugged and said, “for now and personally, I find it pitiful but still victorious to have homosexuality removed from the American Psychiatric Association as a mental illness just less than a decade ago. But it is still a win, and we would have a long way to go before the society becomes more acceptant.”

“Change is only the constant, huh?” Bill repeated and scoffed.

“Yes, said by Heraclitus.” said Wendy, raising her glass to Bill.

Bill thought for a moment, then asked again, “do you think one’s sexual orientation can change as well?”

Wendy contemplated and said, “although lacking in evidence to prove that it is, I do believe that it is possible. And to prove that of course we would need more statistics from biology and psychology studies, and also others as well. Besides I do believe that the strict habit of categorizing inhabited from our ancestors as one of the basic skills to survive will one day be loosened by the possible fluidity in many of our natures.”

“Fluidity…” Bill repeated.

“Bill, is this about you and Holden?” Wendy eventually asked.

“Why? Why would you ask?” asked Bill in shock.

Wendy smiled and said, “just out of my curiosity and elementary deduction, you guys have been peculiar recently. I thought it was because of Holden’s incident. But then your behaviors around each other had shown something surpassing the signs of mere friendship…”

Bill sighed and looked at Wendy, half pissed and half sad. He was irritated for being exposed and at the same time sad and lost for not knowing how to cope.

Seeing Bill like this, Wendy reached over her hand, and placed it in the middle of the table, showing her genuineness but not invading Bill’s space. She looked into Bill’s eyes and said, “Bill, all I can tell you from my perspective, is that the feeling is mutual. And for this feeling that you both have, I would not fret about understanding it if I were you, just open your eyes and try to accept. But it’s your choice to make. And no matter what you choose, I will say the same to you as you just said to me, I will respect you and your choice.”

Just four hours ago in the prison lounge room where Holden and Gregg interviewed the convict, a conversation similar to this had happened, just not as articulate or friendly as this one. But in the end the same result had been achieved with the similar comment being made. The convict told Holden, “open your eyes.”

* * *

One day later Holden came back with Gregg, and Bill was at the airport to pick them up. As their eyes met through the exhausted travelers at the airport, both Bill and Holden felt that they had opened their eyes for the first time and finally they could see.

The same day after work, Bill was supposed to drive Holden back to his apartment as planned, but instead they sat still in the car for at least fifteen minutes.

Eventually it became stifling and Bill finally opened his mouth, “I think we need to talk.”

Holden looked at him and nodded, “yes, I think we should.”

Bill inhaled and exhaled slowly as he asked, “Where do you wanna go?”

“Can we go to your place?” asked Holden.

Bill nodded and started the car.

They were silent driving back and going up in the elevator. And the silence was slowly drawing the air out of Bill’s lungs. Once he opened the door to his apartment and heard the door shut by Holden behind him, Bill threw his briefcase on the couch and loosened his tie. He took a deep breath and turned to face Holden. 

Holden was only a step away from him, looking up in his eyes. Holden’s pupils were dilated, and Bill could almost see himself in there. Eyes locked to each other, Bill felt they were getting closer and closer. He did not know who was moving exactly, maybe both of them.

Eventually, their lips met. Words completely abandoned, both of them closed their eyes to indulge this moment. A chaste peck on the lips turned into a passionate kiss, as their fingers found their way to each other an knotted together.

When they finally pulled away and rested their foreheads against each other, holding each other in their arms, Both Bill and Holden were breathless. After he finally got back to earth and had his voice back, Bill pulled back and opened his eyes to look at Holden, only to find his eyes on him as well.

“I thought we were talking?” said Bill with a smile.

“What do you want to talk about?” Holden smiled back and asked, tilting his head.

Bill licked his lips, shrugged and pulled Holden closer in his arms.

“Do you have something to tell me?” asked Holden.

Bill thought for a second and nodded, “yes, you?”

Holden smiled and said, “yes. But you first.”

“I love you, Holden Ford.” Bill said right away. He said it with such confidence and certainty that he felt like he had waited a long time to say this.

Eyes widened, Holden froze for a moment, and then blinked and responded with the same assertion, “I love you too, Bill Tench.”

After that there was really nothing else to say. They held each other and kissed again, stumbled their way to the bedroom, and saw each other, truly, for the first time. They saw each other the same way as the Greeks in the ancient gardens, as the Roman warriors in the dark chambers, and as two beings would with nothing but the most primal lusts and the noblest sentiments. They saw each other as if it was their first time to see, and the last time to cherish.

Afterwards when Holden was lying in Bill’s arms, their fingers laced together, Bill felt content and at peace. With all the problems around him, murderers running at large, people with closed minds hurting others who were just different, and even his own son’s incapability of expressing emotions, Bill was well aware that there were crimes to be solved, and battles to be fought. But for the first time he was not worried. As he held Holden closer, hearing his heartbeat echoing his own, Bill knew he had finally gotten what he needed in his arms, he had gotten to look at his eyes and knew he was going to be alright.

—FIN— 

**Author's Note:**

> # Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!  
> # And…you are right, this was inspired by Snow Patrol’s “Open your eyes”.


End file.
